


It's not easy to kidnap Spiderman (or Peter Parker)

by Lurafita



Series: Author likes busting clichés [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: BAMF Peter Parker, Gen, Overprotective, Parent Tony Stark, Peter is a hoe for candy, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark is a stressed dad, Worried Tony Stark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-08
Updated: 2019-06-08
Packaged: 2019-10-26 08:17:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17742308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lurafita/pseuds/Lurafita
Summary: There are so, S.O., many fanfics that have normal, human, non-enhanced criminals successfully kidnapping Peter Parker. And I may have ranted about how people always noob Peter down too much, but it just baffles me every time.And you can of course always make the argument that Peter isn’t willing to risk his secret identity, but that doesn’t mean he can’t use a fraction of his abilities to incapacitate his kidnappers and get away.So, keeping that in mind, I wrote a little crack piece.By the by, Tony hasn’t sold the Tower and I am completely and blissfully ignoring Infinity War. Thanos can chuck himself into a freaking volcano.





	It's not easy to kidnap Spiderman (or Peter Parker)

 

Tony was in his workshop, deep in an inner debate with himself about re-enabling the BabyMonitorProtocol. He knew that, in a way, it was an invasion of privacy and might even be interpreted as distrust in Peter’s abilities and resposibilities as a hero.  
And that was definitely NOT what he wanted to convey.  
Peter had a unique and diverse skillset. With the right training (it had taken 3 weeks for them to figure out what actually worked for Peter) he had come a long way in properly using and controlling his powers, without having to compromise himself by holding back too much in a fight.  
Peter knew when a situation required back up and would never risk the safety of civilians by entering a fight that had him hopelessly outmatched. Peter knew that Tony would always, always, come when he called. (They had had a very, v.e.r.y. long discussion about that. )  
Tony trusted the kid.

BUT, that didn’t change the fact that what the kid was doing, was dangerous.

Spiderman didn’t just swing around tall buildings (at speeds and altitudes that gave Tony heart palpitations), or rescue little kittens out of trees.

Spiderman caught out of control vehicles in busy traffic.  
Spiderman leapt into burning buildings.  
Spiderman got fucking SHOT AT!

Tony had, of course, improved the suit and made it as sturdy and safe as humanly possible. But considering that the material couldn’t be too thick, so as not to impede his sticky appendages, nor too hard, so as not to restrict his super-human flexibility, there were simply limits to what could be done.  
One of those limits, frustratingly, was that Tony hadn’t yet found a way to make the suit bulletproof.

And yes, Peter had the ability to dodge gunfire (thank god for the spider-sense), but that didn’t automatically make things safer.  
Superheroes were just as likely (sometimes even more so) to make mistakes as the next person.  
Sometimes you underestimate your opponent.  
Sometimes you zig, when you should zag.  
Sometimes things just go wrong.

Add to that how Peter liked to hide injuries from his aunt as well as his mentor/dad (because Tony had signed the shit out of those adoption/shared custody agreement papers as soon as May Parker had given her blessing), and it was really no wonder that Tony found himself counting new grey hairs on a weekly basis.

He would just feel that much better if the BabyMonitorProtocol was back up and he would be appraised of every little scuffle, altercation and injury as they happened, all the time, 24 fucking 7.  
No, he was not an overprotective helicopter parent, stop laughing Rhodey!

“Incoming call from Peter Parker.” Friday’s voice cut suddenly through his thoughts.

Tony took a deep, apprehensive breath. Just because the kid called right then didn’t have to mean he was in trouble. This could be a purely social call. Get it together.

“Put him through, Fri. Hey Pete.”

“Hi Mr. Stark!” Good, the kid sounded neither distressed, nor hurt. There was no gunfire, screaming or sounds of explosions in the backround. Just a social call then, thank god.

“Whats up, kid? Someone treat you to a churro again?” He smirked at hearing the put upon sigh from the other end of the line.

“Is anyone ever going to let this go? She was a nice lady and it was a yummy snack. I regret nothing.”

“Of course. So, what’s shaking? You are not calling to bail on me for our lab time later, are you?” He leaned back in his chair, relaxed smile on his lips.

“Oh god, please, no one says ‘what’s shaking’ anymore, Dad.” Peter whined and Tony’s smile grew.  
They had a weird relationship with names. For Tony it was Kid, Spiderling, Underoos, any variation he could come up with for the name Peter, and (the newest one) Son. While Peter liked to cycle through Mr. Stark, Tony, and more and more regularly, Dad. If Tony’s eyes were a teeny, tiny bit wet the first time Peter called him ‘Dad’, no one had to know.

“Anyway, the reason why I’m calling is,... uhm... well....” UhOh. That was Peter’s ‘I may be in trouble’ voice.

Tony snapped back upright in the chair, as the kid continued.

“...the thing is, I’m currently in the Captain Stacy's office of the New York Police Department, and-”

“WHAT?!” He sprang up off his seat. “Friday! My suit! Now!”

“No, no no no no. Wait! Tony, wait! Calm down. It’s nothing bad”

Yeah, he was NOT reassured. The kid had once stumbled into the tower after patrol, hand pressed against a six inch long stab wound gushing blood, and claimed it was ‘nothing bad’.

“What happened? Why are you in the Captains office? Are you hurt?” The Ironman suit continued to assemble around his body as Friday opened one of the floor to ceilling windows for his take off.

“Not hurt, I promise. It’s just that Captain Stacy thought this call would better be made in privat and the bullpen was kinda loud, though there was this really cool guy who-”

“PETER!” This kid! (”5 minutes until you arrive at the NYPD, Sir.”)

“Right, right, sorry. So, I was just on my way home, minding my own business, and maybe hoping that that cute german shephard would be out in his yard again and I could play with him a little and NOT THE POINT, sorry, so, me just walking along the street, totally innocent, and then suddenly this white panel van parks a few feet in front of me.”

Oh god. That was exactly how crime and horror movies started, wasn’t it? Was now the right time to have a panic attack? (”4 minutes to destination.”)

“And then this man gets out, pretty buff and tall and I was just a little bit jealous, because like, I can benchpress a french frying bus with no sweat and still have total noodle arms, and how is that fair”

“PETER!” This KID! (”3 minutes to destination”)

“Sorry! So, the guy asks me for directions to cityhall, but he doesn’t get it when I explain it to him, so he asks if I would ride with him and show him. And, like, my spidey-sense is this low buzz, like, this guy is probably up to no good, but not a real threat to me, right? And he said he would drive me back later and that he had some candy as a thank you, so-”

“You got into the van?!” Forget the panic attack, his fucking heart was about to stop!

“Did you not hear me mention the part where he promised me candy?”

Which arm was supposed to hurt again when you got a heart attack? This fucking kid! (”2 minutest to destination.”)

“Anyway, I climb into the passenger side and the guy starts the engine and all of a sudden my spidey sense is blaring and I slip down in the seat, before the guy that was hiding in the back can press his knife to my throat.”

Oh god oh god oh god.

“So then I grab the hand and twist it just a little, until he has to let go of the knife, and he screams and the knife falls right beside the hand brake. But then the buff guy driving makes a grab for it, so I punch him in the face, right? But I may have punched just a little bit too hard, cause next thing I know, he is unconcious and his head has fallen on the car horn in the middle of the steering wheel. And now the van is still going, but no one is steering and I still have the other guy’s arm at this angle that must have been incredibly uncomfortable for him, because he just keeps on screaming and the donuts* car horn is really french frying* loud and it’s all giving me a headache. So I pull back and knock the guy behind me out, too, and grab the wheel and yank it to the other side, because we were about to hit a tree. I get the buff guy off the steering wheel, and thank god, finally some quiet, but his foot is still on the gas, so I grab the hand brake and yank it up. And then the tires are squeeling and the engine is stuttering and I might have knicked my hand on the knife that had fallen there earlier, so I’m a little startled and yank the wheel again and then the van crashed into a parking police car.”

There is a moment of silence, Tony can see the NYPD building in the distance. (”30 seconds to destination, boss. May I suggest some mild breathing exercises to slow your heartbeat down some?”)

“But don’t worry! By that time the van had slowed down enough that the damage wasn’t too bad. Though Detective Mahoney spilled his coffee all over his shirt.”  
Ironman landed in front of the station, drawing quite a few looks all around him. “So I explain everything to the Detective Mahoney and his partner Detective Sanchez, who is like super cool and promised to help me study for my next spanish exam.” The suit dissembled around him and formed into a suitcase in his hand as Tony Stark, clad in a faded band shirt and soft blue pyjama pants (it was supposed to be his day off and he had, for once, slept in), ran up the stairs (as if he would waste time waiting for the elevator) to where he knew the Captains office was (Thanks Friday).  
“Turns out, these guys have been kidnapping kids like this for the last four weeks and were waiting to get two more to ship off to some kind of slave trade ring in a foreign country. So the Detectives interrogated them and got the location for where they are hiding the poor, missing kids and like half the precinct is on their way to free them.”  
One more floor and he would be there. At least now the heavy breathing could be attributed to running up so many fucking stairs.  
“I tried to slip away and get in the suit and follow the police cars, make sure the kids are alright and all, you know? But then the Captain came up to me and clapped me on the shoulder and was like ‘Good job, kid. That was very brave, but now lets call your parents and make sure you get home safe.’ And then he led me into his office and sat me on his couch, which is nowhere near as comfy as the ones in the tower, but whatever, and told me to call someone and that he would come back to talk to us a little later.”  
It wasn’t every day that Tony Stark bursts through the doors of the Major Crime unit of the New York Police Department in the clothes he slept in, so the officers in the room could be excused for any open mouthed gaping that may have taken place.  
“And, you know, Aunt May just came off a double shift in the hospital and I really didn’t wanna wake her, so I thought I better call you instead. So, can you come over to the NYPD? But like, don’t stress. If you have something important to do, that’s totally okay. I can just hang around for a few hours until May has gotten enough sleep and call her then. And maybe Detective Sanchez will-”

Peter was interrupted from his call when the door to the Captains office nearly flew off its hinges as Tony ran right in, a desperate, slightly manic look in his eyes.  
“Oh, that was quick. Hey Dad.”

THIS FUCKING KID!

And yes, fine, it may not be much of an exaggeration when Peter later complained that Tony cuddled him on that couch for the better part of 20 minutes. It may also be true that he threatened to sue everyone and their mother more than once, everytime someone from the police department tried to interrupt his, very justified, fussing over his kid. He also makes damn sure that Peter doesn’t leave his direct proximity for the entire time they stay at the station. Peter gave his official statement, they got to watch when the freed kids were reunited with their overjoyed, tearful parents, who all come over to thank Peter in person for his part in finding their children, and Detective Sanchez gave Peter her card and personal number for those spanish lessons. During all that time, Tony has managed to inform May, Pepper and Happy about everything, and the three soon join them at the station. While May and Pepper take over fussing over Peter and hugging him to death (the kid sends him a very nasty look over the womens shoulders), Tony is already on his phone, programming Karen to reengage the BabyMonitorProtocol and sending the code to one of his Stark watches that he is going to fucking weld around the kids wrist so he can never take it off. He doesn’t even care how much Rhodey laughs at and calls him an overprotective helicopter parent again later.


End file.
